Artist: Jae Millz f/ Charlie Clips
Album: Dead Presidents 2 (Mixtape)
Song: Fuck Around
Typed by: AZ Lyrics
[Intro]
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
[Verse 1]
Fuck around, what these hoes really want from me?
Getting paper since junior high, never gave a bitch no lunch money
Now I'm grown, on my own
Still won't give a bitch no lunch money
You got old bills, I'm with Jae Millz
We sittin there countin that young money
Sittin there countin that young money
Haters, don't you fuck around
Cause you ain't yo music, both could be underground
Brand your house and paint away, these bullets jump around
Throw that silencer on that
Shh, don't make another sound
And then I'm back on em
Drop off, pop yo lack on em
Squeeze hard like Steve Jobs
He'll dive and I'll put this mack on him
Squeeze hard like Steve Jobs
He'll dive and I'll put this mack on him
So nice had to say it twice
Rewind and bring it back on em
Blue Porsche, red Benz
Nice truck, the lad cherish
That baby mama's got more BBM's than a Blackberry
Hah, don't fuck around when I'm in my zone no
Cause this that Hennessey Rose and Patrone flow
[Chorus]
So don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around (nah nah nah)
So don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
You don't wanna
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nah nigga, you don't wanna
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Cause we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
We don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nah nigga, we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nigga we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
[Verse 2]
Don't fuck around cause we don't fuck around and let the macks loose
Been killin these lil boys since Kevin jumped in that berriac juice
Lil boys, they all lil boys, they might not even know Kevin jumps in these
But right now they don't even need to
Just know when you stand I read you
Used to walk the streets of Harlem
Now call me Sir Brickalot
Different cars in my garage
So sometimes I'm so switchin up
3 hundred for my true religions
You in that all body coupe trippin
I pull up right next to you
Playin candy girl in a new edition
Uh, wutchu know bout that?
Chrome go clap, no fresh start
Sharp shooter, bitch I think I'm bread hot
Don't know when to quit nigga I think you bread far
Then your girl is a star, she get the award for best jobs
You don't, she could get out of hand
I'm so hood like the dollar vans
Chase yo bitch ass girl in the alley
Just like bishop to drive the mands
Niggaz want respect, ain't put in a word though
But this that sour kush and granddaddy purp flow
[Chorus]
So don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
So don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
You don't wanna
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nah nigga, you don't wanna
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Cause we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
We don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nah nigga, we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
Nigga we don't
Fuck around, fuck fuck around
YMCMB!